


Confessional

by Kantayra



Series: Atobe/Tezuka Canon 'Verse [5]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: Surely no one actually thought that Fuji would let Tezuka get away unteased, after his walk-of-shame with Atobe?





	Confessional

**Author's Note:**

> Fuji only agreed to stop teasing Tezuka in my last fic, if I let him tease Tezuka non-stop through this one. It's generally wise never to break one's promises to Fuji. :P

“Soooooo…” The word drawled out long and lazily over Tezuka’s left shoulder, and he allowed himself an inward weary sigh before turning to face the inevitable.

Sure enough, Fuji had materialized from the ether and was smiling falsely innocently up at Tezuka as they walked side-by-side along the sidewalk.

“Hmm,” Tezuka grunted.

“Oh, come on!” Fuji protested. “Spill!”

Tezuka took slightly longer to blink than usual and then inhaled a fortifying breath (both of which, he was sure, Fuji frighteningly noticed). “I honestly have no idea what you want me to say,” he admitted.

“You’re supposed to give me _details_ ,” Fuji chided him.

Tezuka winced. Was this a thing he was going to have to talk about now? He wasn’t ready for that. It was just one of the hundred million consequences of sleeping with Atobe that he really hadn’t considered properly before his hormones had taken over and stupidly gotten him into this mess. “I don’t think so,” Tezuka refused, which never worked with Fuji anyway, so Tezuka wasn't sure why he even bothered trying anymore.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Fuji promised. “I won’t even tease you.” He tell up two fingers in promise.

Tezuka paused and narrowed his eyes at Fuji suspiciously.

Fuji beamed back up at him.

“No,” Tezuka insisted, and stalked off back toward home again.

Fuji skipped a little to meet his strides once more. “So, was it just a one-time thing?” he prodded.

Tezuka sighed.

“Are you going to see him again, now that the season’s over?”

Tezuka’s eye twitched.

“Are you two going to be _boyfriends_?”

“Yes, fine!” Tezuka finally snapped. “We’re still seeing each other, and—” Tezuka felt his face heating up, “—I suppose, yes, he’s my boyfriend.” It sounded like such a silly word, inadequate to describe everything he and Atobe were to each other.

Fuji laughed behind his hand.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to tease me,” Tezuka said wearily.

“Sorry.” Fuji shook the laugh off. “It’s just that the way you say it, it sounds like the end of the world.”

“Hmm,” Tezuka retorted unhelpfully.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Fuji quickly assured him.

Tezuka raised an eyebrow at that.

“You’ve been practically walking on air since that night.”

Tezuka gave Fuji an incredulous look. He was reasonably confident that, after years of hard practice, his expression hadn’t changed in the slightest.

“Don’t worry,” Fuji assured him. “The others can’t see it.”

“Even Inui?” Tezuka demanded, somewhat nervous at the prospect.

“Even Inui,” Fuji promised. “Besides, if any of them _did_ notice, you can just say you’re still pumped up from winning Nationals.”

“Hmm,” Tezuka conceded. It wasn’t a bad idea. He decided to use it if the situation ever arose. That was one of the best things about having Fuji as a friend: he was _so much_ better at deception than Tezuka was.

One of the _worst_ things about having Fuji as a friend, was that he could turn that deception right back on you. “I was caught by surprise,” Fuji commented lightly. “The two of you were very discreet. I didn’t even notice when you left the party.”

Tezuka’s cheeks warmed at the memory. Atobe had been so _casual_ about the whole thing, guiding Tezuka masterfully through the throngs of partying teenagers, winding aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity before Atobe finally deemed it safe to slip out. Tezuka’s heart had been pounding in his chest the whole time. He hadn’t even thought to check who might be watching.

“That’s a relief,” Tezuka finally said.

“Where’d he take you?”

And – aha – _there_ was Fuji’s trap. Because now Tezuka _had_ to know whether they’d successfully kept up that discretion, but the only way to find out would be to tell Fuji some of the details he’d been demanding from the beginning. Tezuka weighed the former against the latter and conceded the inevitable. Curiosity was an overpowering force, on both sides, it seemed.

“Top-floor bedroom.” Tezuka hated being able to feel that he was blushing, especially since it just made Fuji smile at him more. “Master suite.”

“That would have made the most sense,” Fuji agreed. “Up all those stairs, down the other hall from the bathrooms. Fewer people up there.”

“A door with a lock,” Tezuka agreed, hearing the sound of Atobe flipping the bolt as an echo in his memory. Atobe had just smirked at Tezuka knowingly, and Tezuka had…

“Mmm,” Fuji agreed. “If I’d thought about it, I would have realized that Atobe might make his move that night. He’s been flirting with you for some time.”

“To put it mildly.” That had been the most incredible part of it, really. Atobe hadn’t even _had_ to say anything, because all the dirty words were running through Tezuka’s head on their own at that point, seared into his memory.

“Did he kiss you then? That would have been your first kiss.”

“I…” The moment flashed through Tezuka’s mind, the heat and the want and the strange sensation of finally being able to just let go.

“Oh!” Fuji’s eyes widened in realization. “ _You_ kissed _him_.”

“How are we talking about this?” Tezuka snapped and picked up the pace. “I said we weren’t going to talk about this.”

Fuji easily kept up with him, which shouldn’t have been possible given how much longer Tezuka’s legs were. “I think that, if you _really_ didn’t want to talk about it, we wouldn’t be.”

There were times when Tezuka hated how well Fuji saw through him.

“This is a big change in your life, right?”

Tezuka nodded sullenly.

“And you can’t really talk about it with anyone else, except Atobe…”

True, unfortunately.

“And since Atobe’s _involved_ ”— _there_ was that teasing tone in Fuji’s voice again—“you don’t have that valuable third-person perspective.”

“I’m not letting you commentate on my sex life,” Tezuka complained.

Fuji grinned. “So the two of you _did_ go all the way, then. I knew it!”

Tezuka gaped a little that he’d been so careless as to actually admit it.

Fuji beamed. “How was it?”

Tezuka paused and considered his situation very, very carefully. Fuji was generally a menace, but he _was_ Tezuka’s friend, and he was fundamentally trustworthy about important things (albeit never without a heavy dose of teasing). That, and Tezuka really, alarmingly wanted to say it aloud, like somehow that would convince him that the dream he’d been walking through for the last week and a half was real.

“It was…nice,” was what the two sides of Tezuka’s internal debate finally settled on.

“Hmm…” Fuji scratched his chin. “Coming from you, I’m going to translate that as ‘spectacular’.”

Tezuka shrugged sheepishly.

“Who made the first move?”

“We sort of…met in the middle?” Tezuka didn’t even think he had the vocabulary to describe what sex with Atobe had been like. “You remember our tie-break at Regionals?”

“Vaguely,” Fuji snickered at Tezuka’s incredibly rhetorical question.

“It was sort of like that. But…”

“With fewer clothes?”

“You said you wouldn’t tease me,” Tezuka said yet again, somewhat pointlessly.

“Sorry, sorry,” Fuji waved his hands and forced himself to be serious again. “I would ask if he treated you right, but I can already tell he did by the way you’ve been smiling to yourself when you think no one is looking.”

“You’re not reassuring me about my discretion,” Tezuka sighed. “Do you think…” he trailed off.

Fuji looked at him, eyes open, impossibly patiently.

“Should I have waited longer?” Tezuka finally put words to the one thing that had been bothering him all along, and the one thing he really couldn’t trust Atobe’s judgment on.

“You’re worried you’re a slut for putting out on the first date?” Fuji asked incredulously.

And, yes, that was _exactly it_. Fuji always had been good at getting to the roots of things. Although… “Eighteenth date,” Tezuka corrected, “technically speaking…”

“Tezuka,” Fuji said, sounding almost exasperated, which was just strange coming from Fuji of all people, “the two of you have been dancing around each other, getting worked up and driving everyone else crazy for months now. Do you really _want_ to have waited longer?”

“Well, no, but…”

“That just makes you a bigger slut?” Fuji guessed in that way that never really was a guess.

“Something like that,” Tezuka looked pointedly away.

“Tezuka,” Fuji stopped and looked Tezuka right in the eye, deadly serious in that way that he rarely ever was, “I will only tell you this once: you are the exact opposite of a slut. I promise. I’m only telling you this so that, from now on, when I tease you about being such a slut, you won’t worry.”

Tezuka blushed again at Fuji’s last statement, which just made Fuji smile again, which was undoubtedly why Fuji was going to tease him about this again forever. “I have homework,” he insisted, and turned the corner to his house.

“And you’ll want to get it done early in case your _boyfriend_ calls, hmm?” Fuji teased merrily.

It was weird how already this felt normal, like Fuji teasing him about everything else. It was an overwhelming relief, actually. Tezuka had finally done an impulsive thing, and it had turned out well (spectacularly), and the world hadn’t ended.

“Are you going to see him this weekend? Are you going on another date?” Fuji continued relentlessly.

Tezuka blushed more.

“Ooh! You’ve _already_ had another date! So soon? It must’ve been last weekend, then? Did you put out on that date, too?”

At some point, Tezuka wasn’t going to physically be able to blush any further, right?

“You _did_! Tezuka, you slut!” Fuji laughed.

“You promised you wouldn’t tease me,” Tezuka said one last time helplessly and shut the door to his house on Fuji’s smiling face.

***

_Meanwhile, at Hyotei, where things are soooo much more dignified…_

“What’s with you?” Oshitari prodded Atobe’s side with his tennis racket. “You usually talk more smack when you watch me and Gakuto play.”

“He’s in a _good mood_ ,” Mukahi teased as Atobe slapped away Oshitari’s racket away with a frown. “What, did you finally bang Tezuka?”

Atobe’s glare turned to Mukahi. “Don’t talk about him like that,” he snapped.

“Oh my god!” Mukahi laughed. “You _did_!”

“Shut _up_!” Atobe snarled.

“Atobe’s in _lo-ove_!” Oshitari sing-songed loudly enough that a nearby group of sub-regulars turned to look at them.

“Kabaji?” Atobe whined. “Shut them up?”

“Yes,” Kabaji agreed.


End file.
